


Genuine Appreciation in Workplace Culture

by Meridians_of_Madness



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Gangbang, Hair-pulling, Light Humiliation, Multi, Non-Human Genitalia, Oral Sex, Other, Oviposition, Slime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28148535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meridians_of_Madness/pseuds/Meridians_of_Madness
Summary: The Archangel Gabriel is offered up as a year's end bonus by Prince Beelzebub. Hell's upper management is less than impressed.
Relationships: Gabriel/Hastur/Dagon/Ligur (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21
Collections: All Gifts Left In A Server For More Than A Fortnight





	Genuine Appreciation in Workplace Culture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PreposterousGreen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreposterousGreen/gifts).



“Ta-da!” said the archangel Gabriel, and when that elicited no reaction at all, he tried again.

“Ta-da!”

The three demons only stared, and the one with unblinking fish eyes, Dagon, leaned over in her seat slightly to see if there was anything behind him. When she found there wasn't, she turned back to him in confusion.

“So... what's all this, then?” she asked, and Gabriel smiled, opening his arms in his best 'come all ye' manner.

“A present from Prince Beelzebub,” he said. “Your bonus for a century ill-spent, an archangel at your disposal.”

A present for him too, if he was being entirely honest, but this was Hell, and he didn't have to be.

“Oh,” said Ligur. “You know, I thought ze was going to present us with a coffee maker.”

“Promised, more like,” growled Hastur, the toad on his head glaring angrily from under his wig. “We was _promised_ a coffee maker.”

“I was more interested in the presentation,” said Ligur with some indignation. “It was supposed to be, y'know, an _honor._ Like, in front of all Hell. Bad job poorly done and all that. Swear, sometimes the boss doesn't even appreciate all the work we put in being the worst.”

“Er, ze does,” Gabriel said. “Ze really, really does, that's why I'm here...”

Dagon rose from her seat to circle him speculatively.

“Do you make coffee?” she asked as if trying to make the best out of a bad situation. “It doesn't have to be anything fancy, nothing with milk or locusts, we don't put on airs down here...”

“I can... make Aziraphale make coffee for you?”

“Bet he won't burn it right,” Ligur grumbled. “People never do.”

Gabriel had figured that the experience of being offered up as treat for Hell's upper management would be humiliating, possibly even excruciating, but She and Beelzebub were mysterious in their movements- he hadn't expected this.

“Well, nothing to be done about it,” said Dagon finally. “I mean, we can't go focusing on the bad-”

“Can,” said Hastur. “It's how we got the bonus in the first place, isn't it?”

“Well, what I meant is, let's not think about what the Archangel Gabriel can't do. Let's think about what he _can_ do.”

That was more like it, but Dagon smacked him on the back briskly.

“Hey you,” she said, officiously. “What can you do? And don't say make coffee. We're over the coffee now.”

“I'm not,” Hastur muttered, but the other two ignored him.

“Well,” Gabriel said, his breath a little faster. “Whatever you like, really. Beelz, that is, Prince Beelzebub, told me to show you all a good time.”

“What kind of good time?” asked Ligur suspiciously. “Are we talking about a you getting devoured by hellhounds kind of good time or more like a you pinned to the gates like a butterfly kind of good time?”

“Like a death by a million paper cuts good time or just handing you Crowley's unfilled paperwork for the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries?”

“Ze's talking about sex,” said, of all people, Hastur, his arms crossed over his narrow chest.

“You think?” asked Dagon dubiously, and he nodded.

“Yeah, look at his face.”

Gabriel gasped as Dagon fisted a many-jointed finger in his hair and twisted his head around to examine his face. This close, he could see how her thin lips didn't quite cover her narrow, needle-sharp teeth.

“What am I looking at?” she asked finally, and with a disgusted sigh, Hastur heaved himself to his feet. When he reached over to grab Gabriel's shirt and drag him closer, Gabriel had to look up into his black eyes.

“Look at this. He's blushing. Pupils blown out, too, and his lips are all red. Surefire signs of arousal for those whose corporations are more _human standard.”_

The last was said with a sneer, and Gabriel licked his lips.

“S- so you're not-”

“Why would we be?” asked Ligur, shucking off his heavy leather coat. The chameleon on his head flashed a muddy red that looked decidedly unhealthy but interested.

“Yeah,” said Dagon, who hadn't relinquished her hold on his hair. “What's the fun in monkey bits?”

“Well, I-”

Gabriel had had an argument, but then Hastur reached up and thrust two filthy fingers into his mouth, reaching for the back of his throat to gag him before pumping them in and out with a contemptuous slowness.

“Call _that_ an oral cavity?” he asked. “You know, that wicked little thing down in the second circle, she keeps a _parasitic grub_ in place of her tongue, 'cos she takes care of herself, and look at you. What's all this then, eh?”

Gabriel coughed wetly as Hastur pulled his fingers out but then pinched his tongue hard before letting go.

“Soft is what it is,” Hastur continued. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Gabriel pulled back as much as he could with Dagon's hand still in his hair, breathing hard and maybe just a little in love.

“I could show you?” he offered.

With a grumbling snort, Hastur threw himself back down into one of the folding chairs and patted his thigh.

“All right, let's see what you got.”

Gabriel started to step forward, but Dagon's hand in his hair tightened and then dragged, forcing him down to the cold cement floor before letting go. Gabriel took a deep breath, message received, and crawled, not leaning up until he was on his knees between Hastur's legs. His hands only shook a little when he fumbled with the demon's fly, the twitching flesh under his touch more than a little menacing.

The member he pulled out wasn't too far off of human standard. It was a mottled fleshy tube, pointed at the end, smooth and a little chilly. When he grasped it hesitantly, it didn't firm up, but rippled, and when he drew on the loose skin, the flesh at the base bulged a little.

 _I can work with this,_ he thought with confidence, and then Hastur reached back with both hands and smashed Gabriel's face directly into his crotch.

“Get in there, you useless birdie,” he grunted. “Looking doesn't do anything.”

“I dunno, looking's nice sometimes,” Ligur commented. “Sense of dread, anticipation, you know?”

Gabriel didn't know much about dread, but he did know that Hastur's hands pressed against the back of his head felt amazing, and that the demon's member stiffened up immensely at the contact, strong enough to press hard against Gabriel's face as Hastur made sure that he knew what he was there for.

Gabriel's hands ended braced on Hastur's thighs for balance as he finally managed to get his mouth open and swallow the first half of Hastur's member in almost the same motion.

Gabriel didn't keep much in the way of a sense of taste, but even what he could get from Hastur told him he had made a very good choice. It was somewhere between a peat bog and the floor at a community pool, and despite some very good training, he gagged against it, trying to get a precious lungful of fresh air before Hastur slammed up into his throat again.

“How's it?” asked Dagon, and Gabriel tried to reply around his full mouth before he realized the question wasn't directed at him at all.

“Eh, not bad,” grunted Hastur, thrusting up rhythmically and aiming to hit the back of Gabriel's throat. “Bet it'd feel better with a grub, though.”

“Oh, look at you,” snickered Ligur. “All last quarter, it was, _oooooh, not me, I'm not interested in the least_ , and now you're all _Myrddian does it nicer with her grub._ ”

“ _Ooh, no, it's just professional, I don't care about Myrddian's new grub at allllll,”_ sang Dagon, and Gabriel gagged as Hastur thrust even harder down his throat. There were involuntary tears streaming down his face, and he was almost as overwhelmed as someone who had ordered the cosmos could be.

“You two need to leave off of that,” Hastur growled, bracing to thrust even harder. “Place of business, no call to go bringing in personal matters.”

Gabriel would have advised them all to be mindful of fraternization across departments, but he was on his knees, his mouth was full, and he was almost achingly hard. He was something a little less pleasing than a coffee maker, and he had no idea why that felt so good, but it _did._

“Here,” Hastur said, letting go suddenly. “Pull back if you don't want a bellyful.”

Gabriel almost did, but then he grabbed on to Hastur's hips, practically burying his nose against the fabric of Hastur's trousers to receive what came next. It felt like a flat gallon of something thin and only slightly warm, a directed squirt that would have made him gag if he hadn't forced himself to take it, and when it stopped suddenly, he gasped for air only to get the second squirt all over his face, and then when he tried to get the stuff out of his nose, the third in his hair.

He let go of Hastur to heave onto the floor, head down as he tried to clear his nose and mouth of the rapidly cooling spend.

“Fuck,” Gabriel gasped, sitting back wide eyed to stare up at the three demons with something a little like wonder. “Fucking-”

“Yeah, since you can't make coffee,” Ligur agreed, and now he scruffed Gabriel by the back of his jacket, tearing the fabric in his haste. Gabriel had to scramble on all fours across the floor to follow Ligur to a cleared area in front of the meeting room. There was enough room for Ligur to throw him to his back before kneeling down to straddle his chest. As Gabriel watched in fascination, Ligur stroked the bared skin below his belly, causing the moist slit underneath dribble a bit of fluid onto Gabriel's ruined shirt.

“What's going to happen?” Gabriel asked, and Ligur winked at him.

“It's a surprise, right?”

Ligur continued to to stroke his flesh more firmly now, almost as if he were milking something down, and then with a soft squelch, two fairly round appendages dropped out, glistening and studded with bumps in a regular arrangement. As Gabriel watched in fascination, the hemipenes grew even rounder, the coloration thinning out over the whiteness of the organs under the skin.

“C'mon, get your mouth around those, yeah?”

Gabriel tried, opening his mouth as wide as it would go to suck at the rubbery texture of the appendages in front of him, but they were simply too large and too firm. The best he could do was slobber over first one and then the other, his lips and cheeks going raw and sensitive rubbing over the nubbins that studded the surface.

Ligur made a sound that might have been disappointment, and Gabriel redoubled his efforts. Almost by accident, he found the salty slit on the underside of one, large enough for him to press the tip of his tongue in, and Ligur went stiff over him, digging his fingers tight into Gabriel's scalp.

“Dirty little bird,” he muttered almost admiringly. “You get your tongue in there, yeah? You clean me right out...”

A delicious shiver ran through Gabriel then, because if there was anything he knew how to do, it was take orders. He turned his head just slightly, searching out the slit in the other member and laving his tongue flat over it before squirming it inside again. His jaw had begun to ache and there was a low throbbing pain in the back of his neck, but all he could do, all he _wanted_ to do, was work at Ligur until he was covered in come again.

Over him, Ligur's body hitched, his broad shoulders hunching over as Gabriel drew greedily on the skin of his members, and he might have gotten Ligur over the edge if Dagon hadn't torn at his trousers.

“Ah!”

His head fell back, and he tried to peer around Ligur to see what she was doing, but Ligur pushed him back.

“You got her all wet,” snickered Ligur, the chameleon on his head rolling its eyes with pleasure. “She'll figure herself out, now get back to work.”

Gabriel did as he was told, licking and sucking but more slowly this time as his shoes and socks were yanked off and then his trousers and his underwear followed suit. He was bare below the waist, and he whined around Ligur's cocks as Dagon passed frigid hands up and down his legs.

“Cute,” she cooed. “I don't mind this at all.”

“It's not bad,” Ligur agreed. “Could be worse.”

In another world, Gabriel would have said something, pontificated, corrected, explained to them why _any_ experience involving an archangel of the Heavenly Host was beyond incandescent, but right now, he didn't have to. Right now, as Beelzebub had told him, all he had to do was obey, and it opened up a deep and yawning well of satisfaction in him.

As he worked at Ligur's cocks, mouthing first one sphere and then another, Dagon spread his legs, her fingers so long that she could cup his thighs with ease. His own cock, which at this point was, all right, feeling a little _plain,_ stood up hopefully, and she chuckled as she gave it a swift little bop. Gabriel whimpered at the impact and then his head fell back when Dagon curled one hand around his shaft, coating it completely with a wet cool slime that seemed to have come from nowhere at all. It wasn't sticky but slippery, and her hand slid a few times on his shaft as if she couldn't get a grip.

“Oh, what's that-”

Gabriel couldn't get the rest out as Ligur crouched over him, pushing his cocks against Gabriel's face insistently.

“Oh c'mon, Dagon, you're distracting him.”

“Dunno what you're going on about. You've got your hole, and I've got mine.”

Gabriel was nearly delirious with need over just those careless words, and he couldn't help spreading his bare legs further even as he tried to swallow Ligur down. It seemed his fate to be never quite good enough, and Gabriel, who had made the running every single day since the beginning, _loved_ it.

The slime that had ended up on his cock was everywhere now, sliding down his hips, wicking up his coat and his jacket, puddling underneath him. It was so thick, expanded so quickly that there was absolutely nothing he could do to prevent Dagon from spreading him open even further and sliding down to push up against his hole. It took him a few moments to realize that she was prodding not one but two fingers into him, one from either hand, and when she hooked them and tugged in opposite directions, he groaned wildly. It wasn't painful, but there was something firm and businesslike about it, as if she were a concerned consumer wanting to know exactly what she was buying.

“You're distracting him,” Ligur said again, and Dagon sighed.

“Here, get him up on his knees, and you have a sit down,” she said. “It'll be easier all around this way.”

Gabriel keened at the loss of her fingers inside him as she drew back, but then Ligur was standing as well, grabbing him by the back of his coat and hauling up partway up to his knees.

“All right, c'mon, just like before,” Ligur said, drawing him forward again. Obediently, Gabriel pushed between Ligur's spread knees, mouth open even as he slipped on the floor, which now seemed to be covered with a thick coat of clear slime.

From this angle, Ligur's members were more manageable, the weight shifted to take some of the pressure off, and Gabriel found he could take them into his mouth one at a time, swallowing carefully so they fit without being mashed against his teeth.

“Oh, good birdie,” Ligur groaned. “That's very good...”

“We'll see,” Dagon said from behind him, and she leaned forward to spread him again.

The slime was coming at least from her hands, and she had to dig her nails into his cheeks to get any kind of grip at all. Gabriel tried to focus on the job in front of his face (or more precisely, in his mouth), but it was difficult as first one knobby-jointed finger pushed inside him followed by another. Dagon's slick was slippery and thick enough that there was no tightening against her at all, nothing but a yielding surrender that threatened to take him right out of his head.

Ligur's hand fell on his head, urging him into sharper shorter movements, and behind him, Dagon cooed as she worked another finger inside.

“Oh look at that,” she said, and out of the corner of his eye, Gabriel saw Hastur come over to peer at Dagon's work.

“Not bad,” Hastur admitted begrudgingly. “You could stick a lot in there if you wanted. “

“Watch me,” she said, and her hands shifted to Gabriel's waist, squeezing hard to get a good grip.

She fit her hips against Gabriel's rear, shifting a little so she was pressed against him snugly skin to skin. Dagon was clammy against him, and her bared skin caught against his, making him think of barbs and thorns. If it wasn't for the slime, it would have itched ferociously, but as it was, it only added another layer of fascinating sensation to everything that was already going on.

Ligur's hands tightened on Gabriel's hair, and the demon's rocking motions grew more urgent. Unlike Hastur, he didn't bother to give Gabriel a warning and a thin, hot stream shot from one of his cocks, directly onto Gabriel's tongue. The jet was strong enough it stung, making Gabriel draw back, but he couldn't go very far with Dagon pushing up behind him.

“Good, very good,” Ligur crooned, cupping the back of his head and turning it slightly. “Now do the other.”

This time, Gabriel's movements were languid, laving the still-tumescent cock pushed willingly under his lips and tongue. He felt as if he were sinking into unknown depths, leaving only his body bobbing up at the surface. He was hard, and it didn't matter. He was an archangel, and it didn't matter. He was infinitely malleable, infinitely agreeable, and all he had to do was to take and to take and to take.

Dagon rubbed slowly between his cheeks, and with every pass, he could feel something protruding more and more firmly from her groin. At first it was only a lump, and then it felt somewhat pyramidal and firm. Finally, it acquired a more gristly texture and suddenly it was inside him, penetrating him with a slightly corkscrewing motion that made him shudder. It was barely bigger than her fingers, disappointing until Hastur spoke again.

“Gonna pump him full?” asked Hastur with interest, and Dagon blew out a excited breath.

“Right to the top, I think,” she replied, and then the tube inside him swelled, stretching and thus stretching him as well, and Gabriel couldn't help groaning on Ligur's cock as _something_ pushed inside him with an inexorable force. There was a brief pause, followed by another ovoid shape and then another and another (eggs, his brain supplied helpfully), and Ligur groaned as well, another hot spurt hitting Gabriel's face as the demon ruffled his hair with something like affection.

Gabriel dropped to the floor, taking Dagon with him, and now she was stretched flat on top of him, her arms around him tight as she pumped into him with soft exhales of pleasure.

He was full and growing fuller, and by the time she was done, he had somehow squirmed on his side, utterly covered with slime and spend, glowing with pleased humiliation and fucked out in a way that, as Beelzebub had promised, he never had been before. His own cock twitched against his belly, but he had left his own arousal far behind to better enjoy whatever this was.

Dagon knelt up, wiping her brow and nearly glowing as Gabriel shuddered on the cement floor. When she drew out of him, there was nothing to keep the eggs inside. They slid out as easily as she had pushed them in, each one making him whine at the sensation of being spread and then tightening only to be spread again.

At some point, Ligur had come out of the chair to sit at his head, patting him absently, and Hastur sat behind him, one rather bony knee pressed with a weird sort of comfort against Gabriel's shoulder. Another egg came out, slower now, and when Gabriel whimpered, Dagon massaged his lower back, her hand flat and cool against his heated skin.

“You know, we could just go in on a coffee maker,” Dagon said presently. “We could, I mean, what do they even cost?”

“Eh, might as well just send out for it at this point,” grumbled Hastur. “You know, just have some junior associate run up to do some tempting and tell 'em not to come back without a caddy full of caramel macchiatos or whatever.”

“Ah, should I have Myrddian get right on that, then?”

“I _told_ you two, knock it off, it's not bloody professional-”

Gabriel drifted out, tethered to the world only by the lightest of touches and about eight gallons of slime sticking him to the ground. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered above him as if the eye of Heaven was blinking, and in that checkered darkness, he was just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, PG! Thank you for always being a pleasure on the server, and thank you as well for giving me the opportunity to write something I've never written before!


End file.
